Forever Mine, Forever Yours
by emeralddragonchild
Summary: Merlin is raised by Nimueh, who takes Arthur as her and Merlin's slave. Of course, they fall in love. Merlin/Arthur slash.


Note: Originally written for kinkme_merlin on livejournal and posted on livejournal under a different title. Prompt: Arthur/Merlin, AU Nimueh murders Hunith and takes baby Merlin to raise as her own. One day she lets little Merlin (maybe around four or five years old) look into her scrying bowl and he sees little Arthur. Little Merlin decides he wants the pretty blonde boy in the bowl and Nimueh always gives her boy exactly what he wants. She kidnaps Arthur and gives him to Merlin as a gift. Merlin and Arthur grow up together with Arthur as Merlin's servant/slave.

Warning: Merlin and Arthur's relationship is slightly dubious due to Arthur being Merlin's slave and the nature of the enchantments upon Arthur.

* * *

Nimueh stepped over the dead woman and moved steadily towards the tiny cot in the corner. The baby squirmed upon it, tiny fists flailing. Nimueh reached down and lifted the boy up, holding him in the air. She smiled a terrible, terrible smile.

"Merlin. I've been looking for you."

The babe blinked his bright blue eyes. Nimueh tucked him into the nook of her arm and carried him from the shoddy, thatch-work home. The village burned all around them.

There wasn't a single survivor within the tiny little village of Ealdor.

* * *

"Mama," the little boy ran forward. "Mama, play with me. Please?"

"Merlin, come see," Nimueh motioned. Merlin climbed up on a stone and peered into his mother's scrying bowl. Upon a thrown, an unfamiliar man sat. "Do you know who that is?"

Merlin shook his head, "No, Mama."

"That is Uther, King of Camelot. Do you remember what Uther did, Merlin?"

"He... He asked you for help." Merlin said, hesitant but sure. His mother had been telling him this story for as long as he could remember.

"And what did he do after I helped him?"

"He banned magic. He killed the dragons."

"Who else did he kill, Merlin?"

"Everyone. Everyone who did magic."

"And?"

"And sometimes people who didn't. Like children."

"That's right, Merlin. And do you know why he did it?"

Merlin shook his head. His mother had never told him why.

"Because he's a coward. Because he's afraid. Because he doesn't deserve to be king."

Merlin looked back down into the pool. He watched as another figure came into view in the pool, a young boy Merlin's age. Merlin gasped and touched the pool lightly. It focused on the boy rather than the King.

He was round-faced, with golden hair and bright blue eyes. He tried climbing into the King's lap, only to be pushed away. The King motioned with one hand and a maid hauled the boy away. Thick tears slipped down his cheeks.

"Mama, who's that!"

Nimueh brushed her fingers through Merlin's thick hair, "That, Merlin, is Arthur. He is Uther's son."

"But why did the mean king push him away?"

"Because Uther is a terrible king, but he is an even worse father. He has no love for his son."

"I'd love him, Mama. I'd love Arthur. Can I have him?"

Nimueh smiled. "Of course, my son. Whatever you want."

* * *

Nimueh held her son close and whispered into his ear, sweet promises as they watched two guards escort little Arthur Pendragon through the market. Merlin smiled, broke away from his mother and ran forward. The guards didn't notice him, his magic working to keep him invisible. He smiled at Arthur.

"Hi."

Arthur looked weary and afraid. "Hi."

"I'm Merlin. Do you want to play?"

"I'm a prince," Arthur still looked afraid, but he stood firm and lifted his chin, "And princes don't play with servants."

"I'm not a servant," Merlin told him. "I'm visiting from far away."

"Oh," Arthur frowned and looked at the guards. "Okay."

Merlin held out a hand and Arthur took it, "Come on," Merlin encouraged, "I saw puppies over there." He pointed over to where his mama waited. Arthur nodded and let Merlin pull him away.

The guards didn't notice.

Nimueh reached out when he was close enough, stroked her hand through soft blond hair, and caught Arthur when he fell asleep.

* * *

When Arthur awoke, he was afraid. Nimueh shushed him gently and smiled, "No need to be afraid, little prince. My Merlin wants you safe and well and so you shall be."

Arthur shook, his wrists and ankles were bound to the cot he lay upon. Nimueh dipped a merlin feather in ink and traced a design upon Arthur's chest, above his heart. When she was finished, she chanted, "þéáh ærning ond blót breóstgehygd ferþþ gúgt áhnodon Emrys."

Arthur gasped and his back bowed in a grotesque arch. He screamed, but only for a moment as the pain soon overwhelmed him and he fell into darkness. Merlin crept forward and ran gentle fingers over the black tattoo swirled over Arthur's skin. He was marked now, branded. His heart, body, blood, and soul all belonged to Merlin, to be used however Merlin wished.

"This is what you wanted?"

Merlin beamed, very pleased, "Yes, Mama. Thank you."

"He is yours, then."

* * *

Merlin was thrilled to have someone to play with. He had been a rather lonely boy with just his mother, after all. What he hadn't expected was for Arthur to not want to play.

"Leave me alone!" Arthur shouted.

"No, play with me!" Merlin yelled back in demand. They both crossed their arms over their chests and glared fiercely at one another until Arthur winced and rubbed at the brand on his chest that had begun to burn.

"Stop it," Arthur cried out, dropping to his knees, "S-stop hurting me! Please!"

Merlin frowned. He didn't want to hurt Arthur and he sure didn't mean to. Arthur was his, his boy, and he just wanted to play. He ran forward and grabbed at Arthur's wrist. Arthur flinched away and let out a terrified little sound and Merlin backed away quickly.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to play if you don't want to."

"I want to go home. Please, can I go home?"

"No, you're mine and that mean king can't have you anymore!" Merlin shouted, furious that his boy wanted to leave him. He stormed from his boy's room and the door slammed shut behind him, locking into place.

Arthur curled up on his small cot and cried for his father.

* * *

"Arthur, Arthur! It's my birthday!" Merlin cried excitedly. "Guess how old I am!"

"Eight," Arthur answered promptly. He was to be eight soon as well.

"No," Merlin laughed, "I'm seven! Mama says I get to start studying the books now."

Arthur bit his lip, "My father says that magic is forbidden. He says sorcerers are evil."

Merlin glared, "He isn't your father anymore! You're mine, _my _boy." The mark on Arthur's chest burned in reminder. "And, anyway, he's a mean old king. He hurt people, lots and lots of people, even if they weren't hurting anyone."

Arthur didn't argue. He'd been with Merlin for a very long time, had watched the moon run its cycle nine times, and knew by then that it wasn't Merlin who caused the pain in his mark, it was his own disobedience. He wasn't a prince, not here. He was a servant and Merlin his master. Merlin didn't like it when he hurt, and he stopped it whenever he could, but Arthur was learning how to act so that it didn't hurt at all.

Merlin watched him carefully, "Say your mine, Arthur. Tell me. It can be your present to me."

"I'm yours, Merlin."

Merlin smiled brightly and threw his arms around Arthur's neck, hugging him tight. "I'm glad. I'll take the best care of you, Arthur. I promise. I'll protect you and keep you safe and make you happy."

Arthur nodded, "And I will do the same for you."

Arthur's mark pulsed warm, but it was gentle and almost like a tickle. For the first time, it made him feel good. Arthur smiled as bright as Merlin, glad to have done something right.

* * *

"Will it hurt?" Arthur asked, voice shaking. Taking Merlin's mark had hurt, he remembered it well.

"I don't know. I can't remember," Merlin hugged him close, thin arms around Arthur's pudgy middle, "But I will be there the whole time, I promise."

"Will you wear my mark?" Arthur asked curiously, "Like I wear yours?"

Merlin frowned, "It marks you as mine. That is why you wear it."

"Don't you want to be mine, too?"

Merlin thought about it for a moment before he beamed, "Yes! Yes, we'll be each other's. I want that."

Merlin grabbed Arthur's hand and hauled him in to see his mother. Nimueh smiled at them, running her fingers affectionately through Merlin's thick curls.

"Mother, can I wear Arthur's mark?"

Nimueh jerked, "No, of course not!"

The faces of both boys fell and Arthur's lip trembled as he spoke, "But, but why not? He's mine!"

Nimueh spun and smacked Arthur hard across the cheek, knocking him to the floor. "No! No, he is mine! You are his, Arthur. You are his slave, his servant, and he will never be yours!"

"Don't hurt him!" Merlin yelled, kneeling down next to his friend, "You don't get to hurt him!"

Merlin's eyes flashed gold and burnt bright. Nimueh's head jerked to the side and when her eyes returned, wide in surprise, to her son's, there was an angry red mark gleaming on her cheek. Merlin showed no regret.

"I... I apologize, Merlin. I shouldn't have hurt your boy."

Merlin nodded in satisfaction and helped Arthur out of the room.

* * *

Merlin held Arthur's hand tightly as Nimueh dipped the falcon feather into ink. Arthur whimpered and Merlin shushed him gently, smoothing his thumb across Arthur's knuckles.

"Hush, Arthur. It'll be over soon."

Nimueh touched the tip to Arthur's skin. Her eyes were solid gold as the deep Earth magic guided her hand, forming the symbol itself. It was not as intricate as Merlin's, but instead rather simple. Merlin thought it looked a bit like a dragon, with a head and tail and wings but no legs. While Merlin's mark was on his chest, over his heart, his own was on his ribs. It started just below one nipple and ran nearly to the soft curve of his hipbone.

Nimueh lifted the feather away and spoke Arthur's name. The young boy cried out as the ink burnt into his skin, his hand clenching around Merlin's until the pain faded away. Nimueh stood as the golden fire left her eyes. She nodded at her son and left the room.

"I don't care what she says," Merlin whispered into Arthur's ear, "One day, I will wear your mark."

Arthur smiled and promptly fell asleep. Merlin sat with him for a long while, tracing gentle fingers over the slightly raised skin of Arthur's tattoo. He would be proud to wear Arthur's name upon his skin and one day, he would.

* * *

"We really shouldn't," Arthur cautioned, "Your mother would be very angry."

"That's why it best not to tell her, then." Merlin grinned, "Come on, please?"

"Oh, fine," Arthur groaned. He followed Merlin into the boat and across the lake. "Where are we going, then?"

"I don't know yet," Merlin's grin grew impossibly wider.

"Right."

Merlin laughed and Arthur couldn't help but grin. He hadn't been away from the island since he was first taken from Camelot, nearly eight years before.

"I wanted to see if we could find a unicorn. Seeing one is supposed to bring good luck, you know." Merlin told Arthur as he pulled him off the boat and onto a little dock. There was a field ahead and further past that, a forest.

"Your mother is going to kill me."

"Relax, she won't."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one she's going to kill." Arthur muttered, but followed Merlin as he climbed up a rocky hill to the field. "This is a very bad idea."

"But those are my best kind."

"I'm starting to think you want me killed."

"It would be entertaining," Merlin shrugged.

"Merlin, it's getting dark. Your mother will worry."

"Hush, I just want to see what that is ahead."

"Merlin."

"Just let me see what it is, Arthur."

"But, Merlin," Arthur tried again, unsurprised when Merlin cut him off.

"Oh, just shut up a moment!"

Arthur bit his lip and did just that, following Merlin meekly. This was the farthest they'd ever travelled before and Arthur wasn't much looking forward to remaining in the thick wood after nightfall. Merlin, the idiot, didn't seem concerned.

"I can't see." Merlin complained.

"That's because it's dark." Arthur muttered. Merlin shot him a glare. He concentrated and brought forth one of his orbs of glowing blue light. Arthur, under most circumstances, was quite fond of them. Merlin use to make them dance for him when they were younger.

Quite suddenly, there was movement all around them and men -heavily armed, heavily armored men -were grabbing ahold of them both.

Arthur struggled like mad, "Merlin! Merlin, get out of here!" he shouted. Merlin's eyes started to glow as he drew up his power, but then one of the men hit him with the butt of his axe and Merlin crumpled. "Merlin!"

"Quiet, sorcerer!" a man growled into Arthur's ear. He went still. "Tell me who you are."

Arthur whimpered quietly and tried to pull within himself. His mark was burning hot.

"Tell me!"

"Arthur! My name is Arthur!'

The man froze. "Arthur Pendragon?"

"Y-yes."

"By the gods," the man breathed, letting go of Arthur immediately. "I apologize, sire. I-I didn't realize."

Arthur frowned. He wasn't a prince, not anymore. He wasn't sire. "Let him go," he ordered, pushing over to Merlin's side, "Let him go, now."

The men dropped Merlin's arms immediately and Arthur had to move quickly to catch him.

"We'll take you back to Camelot at once, sire."

Camelot. Home. Arthur frowned at the thought. No, not home. Home was with Merlin.

"It's okay, sire. We won't let anyone hurt you anymore. We'll keep the sorcerer restrained."

"No, don't touch him! None of you touch him." Arthur scurried away from them, dragging Merlin with him. He needed to go, needed to get far away. He needed to get safe, get them both safe.

"Poor boy's hysterical," one of the other men muttered.

"Doesn't matter," another answered, "Gaius'll straighten him out."

"I'm sorry to do this, sire," the man with the axe said. And then he brought the axe down and everything went black.

* * *

Merlin awoke in a dungeon. There were manacles around his wrists and ankles and he tugged at them uselessly. He stared at the locks and willed them to open, but it didn't work.

"Arthur!" he shouted. "Arthur, where are you?"

"No use shouting," a voice laughed. It was a woman's, coming from behind. Merlin twisted around to find her, too, chained and bound.

"Who are you?"

"Morgana. The King's ward."

"King? I'm in Camelot?" Panic flared hot in Merlin's belly. They had Arthur. Uther had Arthur, was trying to take Arthur away from him!

"You were caught using sorcery in Camelot's lands. That's punishable by death. Worse, you were found with the captive prince. They think you stole him away. Silly, really. You couldn't have been more than, what, seven?"

"Six."

"Were you both taken? He seemed determined to protect you, according to the knights that found you."

Merlin didn't answer. "How do I get out of here?'

"There is no getting out of here. Those chains bind magic. They're designed for the imprisonment of sorcerers."

"Hang on. If you're the king's ward, why are you in here?"

"Because I did magic. And he caught me. I'm to be executed in the morning. Along with you."

Merlin gasped. "No, I cannot leave Arthur."

"Prince Arthur will be well cared for," Morgana said dryly.

"No, he is mine. And they can't have him."

* * *

Arthur awoke in a large bed with red hangings all around him. There was an old man bent over him with concerned eyes. He felt... Familiar. Like Arthur knew him somehow. The man sighed in relief as Arthur's eyes opened, "Your Majesty, he's awake."

"Arthur!" the man was pushed aside and a more familiar man took his place. Arthur gasped.

"Father."

"Thank the Gods you are alright."

Arthur shook his head in confusion. "I...I..."

"You're home, son. Home at Camelot."

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur sat up, his head spinning when he moved to fast. He looked around in panic, but couldn't find his master. "Where is he? Where's Merlin?"

"Shhh, son. He's in the dungeon. You're safe. Tomorrow, he'll be put to death and this whole thing will be put behind us."

"No!" Arthur shouted. He shoved past both men and took off running, from the room, down the hall, down a flight of stairs. As fast as he could, hand pressed over the mark of Emrys, all of his thoughts focused on finding Merlin.

His instincts lead him well. A pair of guards attempted to stop him, but Arthur moved quick. He left them lying on the floor, no idea what he had done to get them there. He all but crashed into the bars of a cell, reaching his hand out towards a familiar figure.

"Merlin!"

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, relief clear in his eyes. He flung himself towards Arthur, but his chains stopped him from going far. Both strained and their hands were barely able to grasp each other's. "I was so worried," Merlin breathed.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I tried, I swear I tried."

"I know."

"Arthur!" King Uther's voice boomed behind him, but Arthur refused to release Merlin's hand. He pushed himself closer to the bars, stretched further, and tightened his grip.

"I'm not letting go." He whispered, eyes not leaving Merlin's. Merlin nodded.

"Me neither."

"Arthur, what is this madness?" Uther's hand fell upon Arthur's shoulder and he flinched away from the contact. Merlin's hand spasmed in his own.

"Don't touch him!" He shouted, "Don't you dare touch him!"

"Release the sorcerer, Arthur!"

Arthur shook his head and whined, low in his throat. His mark was burning, searing with pain that echoed Merlin's fury. He chanted Merlin's name like a mantra under his breath.

"What is this? You, sorcerer! What have you done to my son?"

"He's mine!" Merlin screamed. "Tell him, Arthur! Tell him who you belong to!'

"Yours, Merlin," Arthur nearly sobbed, "Always yours, forever yours."

"You've enchanted him!" Uther roared, "Enchanted my son! You will burn for this! Guards! Kill him at once!"

As soon as the guards had fumbled the door open, Arthur was through it and throwing himself at Merlin, arms around his neck and face buried into his shoulder. Merlin held him back just as tightly and dragged him into the corner, pressing them both as far from the advancing men as possible.

"Uther!" Morgana shouted, "Stop this! Can't you see what it's doing? Can't you see!"

"Be quiet, witch!"

One guard grabbed ahold of Arthur. At once, Arthur was moving. He grabbed the man's dagger, drove it up and between his ribs with one hand and grabbed a hold of the ring of keys with the other. He threw the keys at Merlin and took up a defensive stance in front of him.

"No one will touch him," he snarled. Merlin unlocked his chains quickly, letting the heavy metal hit the ground with echoing clangs. His eyes burnt and he wrapped an arm around Arthur.

"Get out or I'll kill you all."

The guards hesitated. Uther screamed, grabbed one of their swords, and flung himself forward. Merlin's eyes narrowed and blazed gold. Uther dropped to the floor, dead. Morgana clutched at her stomach in surprise and all the guards stared in shock. Morgana was the first to react. She twisted and dropped to her knees.

"Hail Arthur, King of Camelot."

* * *

Merlin rested his head in Arthur's lap, calmly watching Morgana prepare the ink. She set the bowl down and picked up the dragonclaw, dipping it into the ink. The claw was sharp and it bit slightly into Merlin's skin, but he didn't cry out. He watched as she drug it down across his ribs, mirroring the swirls upon Arthur's side. When she had finished, she whispered, "þéáh ærning ond blót breóstgehygd ferþþ gúgt áhnodon Arthur."

Merlin gasped and his back bowed but he smiled through the pain, looking up into Arthur's eyes.

"Yours now," his voice shook, riddled with pain and contrasting glee.

Arthur stroked his hair softly. "Forever mine, forever yours."


End file.
